


Nightmare

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Helpful Raizel, Nightmares, dark spear - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22325128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: With the Dark Spear active, Frankenstien must once again endure it's strength, and the nightmares it brings. It's fortunate, however, that he is not alone.
Kudos: 46





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to the creators of Noblesse.

**Nightmare**

He dreamed. And remembered.

He dreamed of the first time he'd ever taken up the Dark Spear. He hadn't meant to actually take the thing, he'd meant to destroy it. Maybe use that ferocious power to destroy it's creators.

_ It had tried to eat him, to swallow him whole, body, mind and soul. He'd heard the old saying 'the first time is the worst', but he'd never realized how true that could be until he'd been forced into a battle of wills with the weapon. To win was to dominate and claim the weapon as his own, to bond it to him. To lose was to be devoured by it's power. Even victory would forever taint his soul and his abilities. _

He dreamed, and remembered in his sleep the agony of feeling it swallowing him, devouring him alive. Remembered the manic, homicidal, savage power that filled him, both enhancing him and destroying him all in the same moment. Torment beyond bearing, pain beyond believing. Power beyond his wildest dreams, burning him from the inside out. Screams in his mind, howls and curses and threats.

_ He knew people commented on his sadistic personality when he fought. And he did like to taunt people, mock them, argue with them. It was a strategy, and it practically always worked. But he wondered if anyone knew how necessary that side of him was, when he fought. The Dark Spear tainted all his powers, and defiance required a personality just as sharp and hard. Were he any less vicious minded himself, it would devour him. Any more violent, and he'd let it, just for the boost to his powers. And it was true, he'd absorbed a little of it's insanity, learning to control it. He suspected his master knew, and both assisted him and sealed his powers for exactly that reason. _

He dreamed of the violence the spear wrought, body and soul. The savagery it induced. Remembered countless battles with the Nobles in Lukedonia, learning to control it and exert his will. There was never a time when it wasn't torture, and the pain and madness followed him into his dreams.

He dreamed of the day he had attacked his master. He had battled Urokai, and the red-haired Noble had thrown the death of his apprentice in his face. He'd lost his composure and his control, and the Dark Spear had taken the opportunity. If not for his master, he'd have been consumed. But the Noblesse had used his own power to quell the Dark Spear, to awaken and protect his mind.

He dreamed of the blood on his master's face and arm, the blood he had drawn. He hadn't seen it, not that he could remember, but he'd forced Ragar to tell him the full details. He dreamed of his master, bleeding for his sake, using his own blood in the shield required to contain his power long enough for the Awakening.

_ He had never forgotten it. The guilt of that had followed him into unconsciousness after his master had saved him, and driven him for months after. The knowledge that he had harmed the one man he trusted, respected, and perhaps even cared for, above all else. He wasn't sure he had ever forgiven himself for it, though he knew his master had forgiven him the moment his blood was drawn. _

He dreamed. This time, in his dreams, the Blood Field failed. The Dark Spear tore his mind apart, and left just enough consciousness for him to watch in horror as it tore his master apart, one piece at a time, and devoured him. Just enough awareness to watch himself betray his master, to see his master's awareness of the fact as he was destroyed.

In his dreams, he killed and killed and killed. The children, the young Nobles, M-21 and Takeo and Tao. And others.

In his dreams, he killed his master once more, and this time, the Dark Spear didn't force him.

Frankenstein sat up in his bed, choking back a howl of grief and pain. Sweat plastered his sleep wear to him. The dark walls of his bedroom surrounded him.

Slowly, his breathing calmed. He could feel the presence of the others in the house. They were safe. The bond to his master was still there, a soft presence in the back of his mind, comforting and calming. Frankenstein exhaled, a long sound of relief, and allowed his body to relax.

Only a nightmare. He had known he would have them. Activating the Dark Spear, letting it take partial control of him...he had known he would have nightmares. He'd had them the first time as well. Learning to control the spear on Lukedonia, he'd deliberately chosen sleeping quarters as far as possible from his master's, so he wouldn't disturb him when his ill dreams and the residual energy of the spear tormented him.

The creak of his door startled him from his thoughts. He looked up, surprised that anyone would intrude here, his private rooms. Even Tao wasn't so reckless.

A familiar, slender form filled the doorway, silhouetted by the faint light in the hallway, red eyes glittering with compassion in a face he almost knew better than his own. Frankenstein hurried to swing himself out of bed. “Master? Did you need something? Tea? A snack?”

“No.” His master regarded him solemnly. “You are troubled.”

Frankenstein swallowed. “It was nothing, Master.”

Crimson eyes, serene and gentle, regarded him for a moment. “The Dark Spear.”

Frankenstein bit his lip. “Only dreams, Master. It's nothing you need concern yourself over.” He bowed his head, letting his hair fall forward to conceal his shame, that his master had sensed his distress. “I am truly sorry to disturb you, Master.”

For a long moment, his master made no response. Then soft footsteps sounded, and a gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder. “I sealed your power for too long. And now you must suffer the consequences.” There was a slight pause. “I have not forgotten...the torment of your nightmares. And then...you cared for almost nothing. This is not the same.”

Frankenstein winced at the kindness in that tone, the understanding. He thought he'd done a good job in the past, of hiding the difficulties he suffered. Obviously, he'd failed worse than he could have imagined. Even knowing his master's capability of reading minds and emotions didn't stop him from feeling humiliation, that his master could have witnessed such weakness in him. “It's nothing Master. I can manage something as trivial as this. There is no need for you to be concerned.”

“You are in my care.” Matter-of-fact. The words shouldn't have made him feel better, but somehow they did. They reminded him of the words he spoke so often to the three modified humans, and to Seira and Regis.

“Thank you, Master, but there is no need to be worried. This...discomfort will wear off in a few days.”

The hand lowered, and he looked up. His master was regarding him with a calm, assessing gaze. He straightened, attempting to project a calm, relaxed and confident attitude, as if he'd recovered from the nightmares already. In truth, he could still feel cold sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and his pants to his calves. He still felt faintly sick inside. But there was no reason for him to concern his master over such trivial things.

“Frankenstein.”

He straightened a fraction further. “Yes Master? Shall I get you a cup of tea, or something to help you rest? Or some reading material?”

“No.” Crimson eyes studied his face, seeming to peer into his very soul. “Return to your bed.”

He nodded. “As you wish, Master.” He didn't move though. Not with his master in the room.

And yet, the Noblesse made no attempt to move, didn't turn to leave. He just remained where he was. With a start, he realized his master was actually waiting for him to retire, to go to bed. He swallowed, trying to keep himself from flushing with irrationally pleased embarrassment. “Master...if there is something you need....”

“Go to bed.” Gentle, implacable words.

He bowed his head. “If you wish, Master. But...you do not need to see to my comfort. I am certain I will be all right.”

“Go.” His master didn't move an inch. He was obviously determined to wait for something.

Frankenstein winced at the thought of being put to bed by his master, but there was no help for it. He bowed once more, then settled himself onto the edge of the bed and swung his legs up onto the mattress, then tossed a blanket over his lower body. “All right master. I'm in bed.”

“Lie down and close your eyes.” The order was quiet, gentle, with none of the commanding force the Noblesse could summon when he chose. Even so, he found himself sliding into position. Settling back against his pillows, he laid one arm over his face, as he so often did, letting the darkness embrace him.

Soft footsteps sounded, coming closer rather than moving away. “Close your eyes.”

He did so. After all, there was really nothing else he could do. He wasn't sure what his master wanted, or intended, but there was no way to find out, short of following his commands.

Something touched his brow, a light caress that could have been mistaken for a breeze, if he hadn't known better. Shock filled him.

He recognized the sensation. How many times had he felt it, in the tortured nights? There in his master's mansion, as he wrestled with his dreams and the darkness that struggled to devour him? How many times had he woken, or half woken, to the sensation of something or someone soothing him? The feeling of a hand brushing away his pain. He'd always thought those moments were products of his fevered, anguished mind. Or another sadistic ploy by the Dark Spear.

Emotion flooded him. Gratitude for his master's care and concern for him. Shame, to be so weak. An odd rush of warmth in his chest, at how tenderly his master brushed back his sweat-damp hair.

He didn't have time to say anything, not even to acknowledge the kindness, before his master spoke again. “ **Sleep, and rest without dreams.** ”

Those words  _ did _ carry the force of the Noblesse command. Not much of it, more a gentle push than a forceful demand. Still, it was more than enough to send him falling into the darkness, towards a total lack of awareness. He just managed, as he lost consciousness, to form one final coherent thought.  _ 'Thank you, Master.' _ The warmth of his master's reply followed him into oblivion.

He slept the rest of the night in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about halfway through the series, so...yeah. Just a little bit of fluff between two men who have been friends forever.


End file.
